


DBD Kinktober #1 - Ritual

by Rabirisu



Series: DBD Kinktober 2020 [1]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: He doesn't actually do anything but some of his thoughts are not positive, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kinktober, Male Solo, Masterbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:14:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26838052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabirisu/pseuds/Rabirisu
Summary: After a mostly successful outing at Yamaoka Estate, Oni relaxs after a game with unexpected results
Series: DBD Kinktober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1957654
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	DBD Kinktober #1 - Ritual

**Author's Note:**

> First attempt at the DBD Kinktober. The prompt for today was ritual and wanted to give Oni some solo action as a warm up and introduction to writing smut for DBD

In the depths of Yamaoka Estate, the Oni stirred. It was not a common occurrence that the cursed few wandered into his ancestral home, but the result was always the same. It either ended in slaughter or shame. This time his brute strength took the trespassers by surprise and left almost all of them broken and beaten into the dirt, a gift to the powers that be. With the swirling mist settling back in, he was once more alone in his domain. 

Victory was all but assured and the swell of emotions that came from dealing with the survivors had deescalated from a roar to a stirring in his chest. Looking at the marks on his Kanabo, three distinct red smears took shape. Each one was still fresh and clear in his thoughts, the marks paintings that conjured a powerful story in only one color. 

The first was a boy pretending to be a man. His demeanor was one of a protector, yet his actions spoke of someone who knew nothing about others, only his personal gain. Any pretense of saving his friends turned to a dream as he learned his first true taste of combat. One swift stab between the ribs, and his machismo crumpled to the floor. Kazan could have let him bleed out, but his bloodlust demanded something more. One overhead swing, and he was with the entity. 

Second was a woman with drive. It didn’t take long to figure she was a trickster at heart. Bright colors contrasted by a dark mask, she would have looked outlandish even in a theater. Moving precisely, she treated the broken buildings like a playground. Jumping from the shrine without flinching, she was the first to provide something resembling a challenge. That confidence would fail her as she tripped vaulting over a window, slowing her down enough to be reduced to a stain in the dirt. 

The third was everything the first hoped to emulate. Daring, courageous, he would have made a great warrior if he hadn’t ended up as prey. With his metal gauntlet in hand, he was quick to throw distractions and knock whatever he could into the way of Kazan. Even going far enough as to throw himself in the way of his blade to save one of the other survivors, grunting through the pain. When he was found trapped in a corner, he met his fate head on before adorning a nearby hook. 

The last was the one that got away. A woman who showed more skin than some of the streetwalkers he had seen in the city. Pants that rode all the way up her legs and with a strange blue patterned top, it was a garish display. Just one look combined with the pumping blood of battle left his loins stirring. Despite that mental image burned into his brain, she was rarely to be seen. When it was her turn to meet the chopping block after executing her last teammate, she practically disappeared. The fog eventually returned and the spirits encouraging him to kill vanished. The bitch had somehow left him all alone in Yamaoka Estate. 

Trudging through the weeds, he finally entered a decrepit building that served as his home. Trudging in without a hint of grace or elegance, even closing the door with his monstrous power elicited a powerful thud. Kanebo and Katana placed by the door, now came one of the few constants of an everchanging world, the calm after the storm. Piece by piece, the armor of the beast met the rotted wooden floor. The dull metals and faded fabrics falling to reveal the scarred, blue-grey flesh known as the Oni. A mass of scar tissue, muscle and rage. 

Sitting down with his back to the wall, he closed his eyes as he thought over his day. Despite all of the good kills and displays of prowess, his thoughts came back to his one failure. The bitch who defied him. Scantily clad and cowardly, she had no business being in the same realm as the other prey. All that was left for her in the world of beasts was to serve. 

Interrupted from his thoughts by a stirring down below, his demeanor changed from anger to a slight smirk of amusement. Roused by thoughts of dominance, his cock started to demand the attention it deserved. Hand on his member, he played with it carefully. Not the simple thing he had before his transformation; this beast could not be contained in his giant hands. What he had before was just a head that mushroomed out before going down in a long, straight shaft. Now, monstrous was the only proper way to describe it. 

Layered with multiple ridges on the head alone, his cock only became more complex as it descended down the shaft. A fleshy line of scales trailed alongside a massive, throbbing vein on the underside of his member. Larger, more defined lines and ridges in horizontal patterns lined the side before the bottom half of his shaft switched over to a vertical pattern. It was a wild ride of raw masculinity, practically demanding attention. 

Letting his spittle drool out of his mouth onto his crotch, his hulking dick found itself swelled with blood. Pumping lazily, his thoughts returned of the wench who spited him. The next time she found herself in his sanctum, escape would not be an option. Dressed so scantily, she would learn her place was on her knees. There were many rules in this land, but there was nothing he had seen about having a consort. Perhaps someone of his noble heritage could take what was rightfully his. 

Power fantasies and day dreams stirring in his head, his cock shined in moonlight coming in through the cracks in the canvas walls. Wet, sloppy sounds as he pumped into his hand filled the room, only interrupted by small grunts. Precum starting to form around his tip where it would meet one of three fates. Either smeared against his hands, spilled along the floor or shining in the many depths and ridges of his massive beast. Pumping faster and faster, he stretched and moaned while his mind contemplated darker and dirtier tasks. 

It had been so long since he had a bed warmer of any sort, but this girl caught his eye with her defiance. Such a tiny thing compared to him, he could practically grab her by the wastes and use her like a toy. That’s all the survivors were to him, objects to fulfill his needs. Thrusting deeper and deeper, the moans of terror and surprise from before ran over and over again in his head, a soundtrack for the intense fucking in his imagination. Pumping harder and harder, he could almost feel how tight she truly was. Before he realized how far he had brought himself, the waves of pleasure peaked. One powerful yell and he had painted the floor in off white splatters. Thick, viscous, smelly, it covered his hands and thighs. Coming too from his post orgasm high, he picked himself up. Wiping his hand on the thin walls as he walked towards a window, he found himself with a new goal. There will be more than just dumb, slaughter and mayhem. Kazan will show them that he is a samurai, and not the idiotic oni they think he is.


End file.
